That day
by ToysAndChocolate
Summary: It was just one day in a month in the calendar. It wasn’t a special day. It wasn’t different from other days. It was his birthday, but a day like yesterday and before so. Without parties or commemorations. Just an X in the calendar. - For Near's birthday


_That day  
A Death Note Fanfiction by Raayy and Nanase Kei_

**Death Note DON'T BELONG TO ME**. I wish I could, though.

**Fanfic made by TWO PERSONS**. Me and Nanase Kei (ID: 1425541)

**Translated by me.**

**Beta-read by Bowser**. bowser-loiro at deviantART.

To Near's birthday~

* * *

One more X in the calendar. August 24. Twenty-fourth day of the eighth month in the year two thousand and nine, XXI century.

One day just like any other, a morning like yesterday. Without changes, without differences.

The fact of be making 18 years doesn't change absolutely nothing for me. One more year, one less year. 18 years could be special for a normal boy or man, but I've never been normal. I don't exist for the society anyway.

Even so, I count.

I count the days, because it is a form to understand the things. I don't like not understanding things, but it doesn't make difference, because I understand the majority of them.

I count to remember.

The day. August Twenty-four. My birthday. Doesn't bother me, but doesn't please me too. Nobody knows it, too. Even when I was younger, the only person who cared was my mother. She used to give me new toys and buy cake and sing to me on those days. I liked the toys. I liked the cake too. Her voice, not much – she sang badly. But somehow it was nice when she twisted my hair on her fingers while starting the _"Happy birthday to you"_.

She died eight days after that.

And I count because of her.

_twist twist twist_

I had 5 years, but I still remember well. 13 years later, I still remember. The memories blurrier like someone had passed a wet brush, cloudy. Some sentences and moments were lost but I still remember.

#

Some time later, I went to the Wammy's House. And the only thing I brought from my old life was my birthday present.

A plastic robot. Present given by my mother and the only concrete memory I have of her, besides her name and her memories.

I broke that toy one day, in the orphanage. It was on purpose, I don't know why. When I saw, his arm was loose on my hand. Mello laughed. He though I did it unwillingly, but then I pulled out the other arm and both legs, and he stopped laughing.

I don't like seeing Mello laughing.

He laugh very loud, it's displeasing. It's pesky, too, because it's involuntary. Ironically, ended drawing all the attentions. If he laughed more, could even take my position, which he always wanted.

But he didn't laugh. And didn't take.

It makes no difference for me, anyway.

#

The years passed. There wasn't anymore birthdays.

Day after day, month after month, year after year.

No child in Wammy's House commemorates his birthday. With me wasn't different. We receive presents on Christmas, but _it's not the same thing_.

So I count.

Days, weeks, months, years, _decades_.

It was one of the things I learned watching Mello.

In Wammy's, we had to attach ourselves to our past somehow. Subtle, in a way that they won't know our identity. We need to do that, or else the last existing bit of ourselves will be consumed.

By the shadow. The shadow that erases our past, our names, our personalities – in some cases, and decides our future without our consent. Deny us for the society, forbid our relationships.

The shadow of L.

#

We are all covered by her – we all are his shadows, after all, like he was of someone bigger. I didn't like him much. He stumbled too much and I don't like mistakes. But I accept that he was nothing and I would grow and become nothing to succeed him – and it was all. I understand.

Mello don't.

Mello is funny. He admires L. He missed having a birthday. He hates me. He would hate the day August twenty-four if he knew it was when I was born. But it wasn't when I was born that his problems began, it was when himself did it.

Mello is stupid.

I'm not saying that because I don't like him, actually, if I would specify our relationship – because opposite from L, I had a relationship with Mello – it would be a strange friendship. Even though I don't think he thinks the same about me.

In orphanage, Mello was one of those who most admired L. L liked him too. They used to talk a lot. About sweets and other silly things. But Mello gave much more value to those talks than any moment that he had with another person. I think L was the only one who he respected in life.

I think L knew it.

And, sometimes (once in a while, and when the day twenty four arrives), I think he would had choose Mello – for being so stupid like himself, and for both originates the same shadow.

I think so.

I will never know.

#

I don't know what I feel for L.

It's funny, because it is like I both loved and hated him at the same time.

It wasn't right to say love, but admire. I admire him for the fame he had: the solved cases, one more complicated than another, the number of the cases, the intelligence, how he managed to have this life – which he imposed upon us, possible successors – without complain. He was a man, without a doubt, admirable.

But insupportable.

In some things, like in the concept of justice, I indentified myself with him, but I didn't though he was less insupportable.

The right term wasn't hate, but despise and a bit of repudiation. He stumbled too much before getting something right and I don't like mistakes. I don't like tries without results. Also didn't like the fact of not having freedom to do many things and blamed him even knowing it was wrong to do that.

In that way, he was just like Mello. They were stupid. Not that it was something wrong, but I didn't like and didn't feel myself on the need to like.

I do try to catch Kira to avenge L, like a proof of my admiration, but to prove that he was wrong on his methods too. Like it was a matter of pride.

I think I didn't like much being a shadow. I never did.

#

And now, standing before the calendar, it's funny to think about it. Because L will never have another birthday. L will never count the days for it anymore. However, he shouldn't count anxious – he never was anxious for anything. He was like me, in that aspect – different from Mello, for a change.

But I have the feeling that Mello too won't have birthdays anymore.

I don't know why I think this, which is illogic. This type of intuition looks more like him. But, lately, I didn't stop thinking about it.

I think only I will have birthday next year.

And I can't see any reason to celebrate that.

* * *

**A/N:**

First, thank you so much Bowser to beta this for me x3 I was in a hurry. Thanks! ;w; I trusted him 'cause his english is better than mine.

Anyway, I translated for people in dA could read, 'cause it was made in portuguese. I wouldn't ask Nanase to wrote it in englsih with me, besides, I like to write for the portuguese fandom of Death Note too.

_Happy birthday Near /shot/_


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